World Beyond the Whirlwind
by CookandBaker
Summary: 151 fans on their way to preview the latest Hobbit movie find that due to lightning storm their plane has crashed and disappeared. Landing unharmed on the Lonely Mountain on the eve of the great battle, the unlikely heroes team together to kill the dragon Smaug, save Middle Earth, defeat the dark lord Sauron, and prevent the tragic deaths detailed in J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Hobbit".
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Will you join the me on this ride to explore an alternate Earth-Meets-Middle-Earth saga? This is, of course, purely a work of "hilarious" fiction meant to explore fandom and the writing of fanfiction as well as theorize on the New Line adaptation of the "Hobbit". What else would be a dream come true for all 150 fans – elves, dwarves, hobbits, humans, even orcs, at heart - to find themselves in the midst of their favourite story AND to become heroes in their own right.

I need readers' help to invent characters names and backgrounds (entirely fictional, of course) and we'll see where the story leads us, okay?

Disclaimer: I do not own the story, nor do I claim to have any control over future events.

Please don't be offended, this is purely a work of FAN FICTION :). I changed, of course, omit names of real life plane companies and conventions and other things.

Prologue

Martha Hackers could not believe her ears when her name was called out at the ToonConvention panel to be the first person selected to attend the preview of the new Hobbit movie. She felt her heart thump with joy as she nearly sprang out of her seat, upsetting the Mountain Dew in her boyfriend Alistair's hand.

"You are so lucky!" the people around her murmured in obvious envy. They clapped her on the back and she got to her (shaking) feet to approach the representatives who briefed her on the trip details. Alistair took her by the hand – he was just as much a hardcore fan as her, except that they disagreed on whether the addition of Tauriel was the best thing ever or the worst thing the moviemakers could do.

Arriving back at the hotel late that night after a whirlwind day at the convention and a night out in Old Town San Diego drinking herself silly over margaritas, she was totally exhausted.

When Martha started to brush her teeth, she noticed for the first time the ringing in her ears that had started after the (miraculous and shocking) panel. At first she had ignored it in all the excitement, or subconsciously attributed it to the screaming crowds (she had yelled herself hoarse as well), but now Martha noticed the ringing in her ears grew stronger now, like piercing whistle.

"Hey," called Alistair from outside, "I've got this ringing in my head all day."

"Strange," she yelled back, grimacing at the pain in her throat, "Me too."

"Must be the yelling at the panel," said he, just as hoarsely, "I'll pop down at Walmart and grab a couple of aspirins. But let me get out of this get-up first."

"I was with the both of you and I'm not having any problem in my ears," Alistair's mom shouted in her New York accent, "But both of you are excited, that's what. Let me go with you."

Mrs. Cann would never be hoarse. She had yelled just as much as the both of them and her voice was not the worse for wear.

Martha smiled. Alistair's mom was awesome, a true hardcore fan in her own right. She had read the "Hobbit" and "Lord of the Rings" to Alistair as a baby and was a master of Sindarin, Quenya, _and _Neo-Khuzdul. The three of them had made the amazing 23-hour road trip down to the convention together.

"I hope she gets to come along as well," thought Martha, "I really hope so."

Martha got herself out of the fantasy-cosplay outfit Alistair's mom had made for them (matching elven armour) and crawled into the bath, hoping to relax after all the excitement of the day and smiling to herself in anticipation of her impending pilgrimage.

"I can't wait. I can't wait. How am I supposed to effing wait until November? Oh..."

When Martha fell asleep after downing a couple of aspirins and reblogging images of the day's panel on Tumblr, the events of the panel played back clearly in her mind. In her dreams, she saw the teaser trailer replay itself in its entirety, in all its glorious 48-frames-per-second detail and in astonishing clarity. She heard Pippin's voice, saw every scene exactly as she had seen early in the way. But as she drifted off into deep sleep, the last thing she hazily remembered seeing was Thorin Oakenshield looking directly at her, and saying as he did in the trailer, "Will _you_ stand with me one last time?"

In her sleep, Martha murmured, "Aye, I will. That I will."


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Oh my goodness, thanks for the reviews :) I feel such a burden to live up to the expectations the storylines have set. So if you have any feedback/ideas, do send them over... I really want to do justice to the story idea. It would be such a disappointed if the story doesn't quite measure up... This chapter will introduce some more of the lucky fans as well as elaborate on their backstories. I hope its interesting and relatable, and not too boring :).. or sacrilegious.

_September 2014 - The Fan Contest Winners are Announced_

_**Taipei, Taiwan**_

Chun Li dashed back from the train station to her apartment in glee - her engineering classes scheduled at the university were cancelled this afternoon, and she couldn't wait to just sit back and enjoy a little breather - to sit back, drink some bubble tea, and watch some of her favourite online TV shows.

"_Wo dao jia le,_" she announced as she threw open the door to her apartment after struggling for a couple of moments with the multiple locks on the hostel door. (I'm home now.)

Throwing a kiss at the poster on the wall she was speaking to, a dashing print she had ordered online of BBC's Sherlock Holmes featuring, according to her, the most attractive guy in the universe.

She threw down her back after pulling off her sneakers, and slipping on houseshoes, she puled her laptop open - the internet connection at the university was SO slow.

While waiting for the laptop to boot up, she dashed to the kitchenette and started boiling water for instant noodles.

Finally, Chun Li sat down at her laptop and began to scan websites... just the usual - email, social networks, photo albums of celebrities she liked, news pieces of her favorite shows, etc. Chun Li was not really into the Hobbit, not as much as she was into Sherlock. In fact, she only watched the movies because the stars of "Sherlock" were starring in the Hobbit as well. Of course, she liked the first two movies and thought they were great, but she didn't really know much about J. R. R. Tolkien or the world of Middle Earth.

As Chun Li opened her email inbox, she started to scream in Mandarin. It was just too unbelieve to be true, but she opened the email after five minutes of combined pain and elation. Her bowl of instant noodles crashed to the floor, but Chun Li would just have to clean it up later... she had just won a free trip to New Zealand!

* * *

**_In Manchester, England..._**

"Thorin!" shouted Buff, "Hey, buddy, come here."

The adorable Scottish terrier bounded into the room and came and placed his paws on Buff's knees. Turning his wheelchair around with some difficulty due to his weight, Buff reached down and petted his dog.

"Love you, fella," he says, reaching down to pet the dog, "You're my best friend, and guess what! You know that contest I won to go to New Zealand in November? I wrote and asked the organizers, and they said you're coming with me, buddy! We're going to New Zealand!"

The dog barked in approval and licked his master's hand.

"Now, Thorin," chided Buff, "We must start to get serious. Our roommate George's coming too, and we've got to help him fill in these forms. You're technically his "seeing-eye" dog."

Buff turned to his desk and found the entry-page on his laptop.

"So, Buff McIntyre, if you could be a creature in middle-earth what would you be?"

"Woof!" replied Thorin the terrier,

"Aye, aye, capt'n," agreed Buff, "Of course I'd be an elf. Nothing cooler... now what about you!"

Thorin whined and Buff reached to grab a treat from the open jar on his table, holding it out to Thorin.

"Good day," said Buff, "Obviously, you'd be a tame warg. A big, tough, fierce warg with a heart of gold."

Buff smiled - today was a happy day. Not all his days were happy. Some days, he felt so down thinking of the life he once had. However, Buff was usually contented with the life he had now as fulltime editor of the world's leading fansite for all things Tolkien-related. With George and Thorin, he considered himself the happiest guy in the world. Buff loved to dream that he was a tall, graceful, elf, but at thirty, his hair was thinning and wouldn't grow past his shoulders. He also had grown fat in the wheelchair. Cosplaying as an elf just felt so _wrong, _Buff didn't want to do it anymore.

George entered the room, smiling widely from ear to ear,

"Filling out the forms?"

"Yup!"

"I heard you typing from the next room... time to let Thorin out to do his business."

"I'll do it," said Buff, wheeling past George to the door with the terrier bounding past him.

"Gee, thanks," said George, trying to move out of the way and stumbling over some books on the floor. He didn't need a walking cane around the house, but sometimes it wasn't easy to move around. George had been legally blind since he was a kid. As a piano teacher, he could still earn a living, but people avoided him generally because he was shy and wore really, really thick glasses through which his strange-looking eyes could be seen. On the other side of the heavy lenses, George could see the outlines of the world through his damaged retinas. He was, in general, quite contented. George didn't know why Buff wanted him to go to New Zealand. He sort-of, kinda liked the Lord of the Rings movies, but he didn't get the same kick of being a fan that Buff did. Still, they were best buddies and they did everything together (not without Thorin, of course).

"Strange," thought George, spinning around and trying to find the source of a odd smell wafting into his nose. It confused it - as if something was burning distantly in the air, "Has Buff taken to smoking new cigars?"

* * *

**Lyons, France**

Jacques looked up from his cubicle and glanced sideways at his colleague, Marie. He had always been infatuated with her, the young, sweet and bubbly fellow IT-graduate-turned-programmer. They shared a love of pastries, intensive online gaming, fantasy role-play, and Tolkien, but Jacques was literally nerdy whereas Marie was just hip and cool in all the ways he couldn't be. He loved being her friend, but he just wanted a way to take their relationship to the next level and didn't know how, or whether she was interested in him at all.

Jacques made up his mind today, however - he would invite her to dinner that evening. They would go to a nice restaurant for an early dinner and then go for a walk in the park in the evening. Then he would pick the right moment and ask her the... the big question.

Soon they found themselves in the park. The autumn leaves drifted down from trees about them and Marie was as ravishing as ever, looking stunning in a chic cardigan to ward off the gentle chill that settled over French parks in the fall.

They laughed and talked. They talked about work, about food, about Dungeons and Dragons, about movies, about comics, about art - and then Jacques decided to pop the question. Nervously, he took Marie's hand and led her to a park bench. The distant city lights flickered around them, becoming brighter and more colourful as the last rays of the autumn sun disappeared serenely.

"Marie, I want to ask you a question," said he quietly as she turned to look at him with her enormous hazel eyes.

Her eyes distracted him for a second, but Jacques cleared his throat,

"I want you to share the singularly most... wonderful... thing that has happened to me."

Jacques pulled a folded paper, printed from his email inbox, out of his coat pocket,

"Marie, would you like to be my partner for the exclusive Hobbit movie preview in New Zealand?"

Marie's mouth dropped open in astonishment. She wanted to scream - for years and years she was saving to go to New Zealand for the pilgrimage of a lifetime, to visit Hobbiton, to...

Jacques grinned at the excitement on her face. Surely it was a good sign. He thrust the paper at her and she pulled it open,

"You... really... want... _me?" _she gasped, looking at him with surprise.

"Yes," said Jacques intensely, meeting her gaze.

"Oui! Oui!" exclaimed Marie, "Of COURSE! Oh my goodness... I can't believe it!"

Her hands were clenched in excitement and tears filled her eyes... the opportunity of a lifetime! So unbelievable, and yet so true.

The elation was probably enhanced by the fact that Marie had discovered this morning at precisely 11:17am that she had _not _won the fan contest. Feeling slightly deflated, she had brushed off her disappointed feelings and told herself, "I wouldn't be so lucky any way."

"I didn't win the competition," she said at last, breaking the silence of a moment's pause between them, "I was so disappointed."

"In a way," said Jacques, "Might I be a little selfish to be glad that you didn't win... so that I could share the prize with you... the journey of a lifetime."

Marie laughed and teased him. Both of them would later forget what they talked about late into the night, but both their eyes would brighten with a glimmer, a shining beam of delight and anticipation.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'd seriously seriously love prompts for this fic. It's really more of an RP thingy :) My international descriptions are just ridiculous generalizations, not meant to offend anyone. Also, if you're a fan and feel like I'm making fun of you, I'm not! Let me know what you think in the comments :)

Chapter 3

_Darmstadt, Germany_

Gretl Gruber has cursed the stars when she found out HobbitCon was not to be in Germany this year. _Shit. _Last year, HobbitCon was the best thing to happen to her. She had cosplayed as Thorin Oakenshield, of course. Even the head of Wita Workshop had admired her amazing costume. She had gotten photo-ops with all her favourite Hobbit cast members, especially the ones she hadn't got to snap pictures with at the 2012 London Premiere.

Thorin Oakenshield was her dream, her idol, her hero. She absolutely adored the dwarf and that's why she chose to cosplay as him. Sourcing the long black wig, the silver armour, the prosthetic hands... those had not been easy, but it was a labour of love. She had won oohs and awards for the outfit. The only thing, of course, that didn't work was her decidedly un-Thorin voice. Still, her best mate made a pretty good Tauriel - Anya was Polish, and a doctorate student, comic artist, and fervent Tolkien fan. How she could accept a non-canon character like Tauriel was a constant source of discomfort for Gretl, a purist. Still, there was no flaw to be found in Thorin Oakenshield, according to Gretl. She secretly followed all the Thorin/OC fics (M-rated or not) on more than one fanfiction website, and had a wall full of fanart prints, official posters, and knitted mini-Thorin-figures in her studio apartment.

Gretl had read Der Hobbit in sixteen languages - she had been a linguist professor in the Berlin University. Now, she was on holiday, driving around Germany enjoying the sights, especially the Alps that inspired Middle Earth. No, she was not in cosplay. But she wished she was when she opened her Blackberry phone at lunchtime and discovered the email that would change her life for ever... she was heading to the Home of Middle Earth... 100% New Zealand... that is, when she obtained her passport and visa.

_Shit again. _Gretl would have swore in Khuzdul if she knew any swear-words Khuzdul. A "Baruk Khazad" escaped her lips and startled the poor schnitzel vender she was standing by.

Now... now she really would have to get around to learning Khuzdul properly, swear words and all. With schnitzel in one hand and her precious Blackberry in the other, she carefully reread the email and hurried to her Volkswagen to tell Anya the news. This was awesome. More than awesome. This was unbelievably awesome.

* * *

_Orchard Road, Singapore_

Casey Chow was ironing... not clothes, not dresses, not shirts... she was lightly ironing a plastic sheet to go over the Hobbit poster. On her recent holiday to northern Minnesota, Casey had found an An Unexpected Journey poster going for $5 in Walmart, and she could not resist rolling up and carrying it back to Singapore in her suitcase. It was a map of Middle Earth and it would work so perfectly on her bedroom wall. Sure, the resulting poster was a little creased, but it was better than anything her friends had.

"They can come to admire it tomorrow", she thought.

Casey was engaged, to a fellow Singaporean ringer named Jason Fernandez. He had proposed to her with a ring that was a replica of Nenya, the elf-queen Galadriel's ring. They had grown close over fantasy role-play, board-gaming and video-gaming. Casey was unashamedly a fantasy geek, her favorite non-Tolkien computer games included Skyrim and Dragon Age.

Casey was sure she wouldn't win the Fan Contest. She didn't have any Twitter followers, and hadn't even had a Twitter account prior to the Fan Contest. But, she had somehow contrived to get enough coins to be on the leaderboard by retweeting fellow contest entries. She had gotten to know quite a lot of fans over the internet and had watched their totally amazing entries that made hers seem boring and lame in comparison.

Suddenly, Casey's Samsung phone beeped. She put down the electric clothes iron carefully and answered it.

_S_everal Cantonese expletives escaped her lips as her heart dropped several feet in shock. _I won the Hobbit Fan Contest. _

It was a lucky thing she didn't burn herself with that clothesiron.

* * *

_Vatican City_

Mario Lucio loved holidays (known to Americans as vacations). He was currently on one - that made compulsively checking his emails for Hobbit Fan Contest news harder, but he really wanted to see the Vatican library with his mother before her next round of chemotherapy.

Growing up Catholic, Mario found a hero in J. R. R. Tolkien. He had often been bullied as a child because of his extreme height, and thus spent a lot of time alone. In that time he had discovered fantasy and role-play, and world of Middle Earth becoming especially alive to him. Mario came to love history, culture, geography and anthropology thanks to the influence of Tolkien the scholar.

For his Hobbit Fan Contest video, Mario had drove around Italy with his mother, religiously documenting sites and pictures and talking about how, for example, Mount Doom in Mordor was likely inspired by the volcanic Mount Stromboli in Italy. .

Mrs. Lucio frowned at her son for fiddling with his smartphone in middle of a grand chapel. That was disrespectful, therefore she poked him.

"Just trying to get a decent wifi," he mumbled in Italian.

"Enjoy the moment," she chided him, "Don't spend one vacation thinking of another one."

Mario knew how true that was. After all, Mrs. Lucio had only two years at the most left to live... he was being selfish.

_Forgive me, _he prayed, and turned his thoughts on more profound things, such as the amazing sculptures on his left and right.

Returning to their rented apartment and logging into hotel wi-fi, Mario was in for a surprise.

He could barely sleep that night, wondering who else had won the fan contest, wondering if this was really true. He dreamed of Middle-Earth, especially Mordor, in his sleep. The last conscious memory Mario had was of a strange chanting that sounded familiar.

_Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul,__ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum ishi krimpatul._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Wellington, New Zealand**

Daniel's eyes were glazing over. He had to get new glasses, asap, but he had been so busy working round the clock, finalizing the pre-vis on the last visual effects for the iceberg sequence. It took a painstaking amount of time to render each frame, and his brain was going nuts. Sometimes, Daniel dreamed of Ravenhill and org battles at night, the nights he did get to sleep.

"C'mon, folks," his boss, Joe,waded through the office, his Academy Award in one hand and a steaming cup of coffee in the other, "We've got three weeks until the preview screening."

"Aye, aye, captain," mumbled Daniel, as enthusiastically as he could. He wondered if he should have convinced Joe to let him go on that Antarctica cruise to scout for visual effects sequences.

"Daniel," Joe came over handed him the cup of coffee, "This is for you. Go catch yourself a break, get some sleep."

"Thanks, Joe, but we've got deadlines," reminded Daniel, "I should be in here."

"Well, why don't you go and join John on his morning run?" suggested Joe, "Off you go. I'm firing you... temporarily of course."

"Right," Daniel grabbed his jacket with a mixture of relief and reluctance, "Thanks, sir."

"No problem," grinned Joe, but his smile faded the moment Daniel was out of sight. He had a lot of work to do, and those relentless dreams about Smaug the terrible weren't making him feel any better.

* * *

"So you finally decided to join me," said John after five minutes.

"Um... yeah. I've been here five minutes, John," Daniel muttered.

"Those shoes aren't runner's shoes," John kept up his pace, "Best to get good ones, where we're going."

"Alright," said Daniel, "Where are we going?"

John didn't answer. He kept on running, even though the morning mist was starting to get heavy and it looks like rain was coming.

"You know, Daniel, I've been working on the world of Middle Earth for a long time, even before the Lord of the Rings movies. But there are some things I've only just begun to realize."

"Shouldn't we be going back soon?" Daniel panted, unused to the physical exertion.

"I guess." John looked about, "But this is the spot."

"What spot?" Daniel looked around. They were by the side of a road, on a cliff, overlooking Wellington. The sky was dark, and though it was almost summer, he felt a sudden chill.

The morning breeze, Daniel noticed, was suddenly escalating into near-hurricane speeds, whipping his windbreaker around madly.

"I've been trying to tell you, Daniel, you should have gotten better shoes," John chided him, shouting above the tumult and running near the edge of the cliff, gesturing wildly "It's all real. Middle earth."

'You're mad, John," Daniel shouted back, concerned, "Let's go back. It's getting dangerous."

"We can't go back, Daniel." John shook his head, a smile crossing his lips, "We're here."

A sudden blast sent John and Daniel rolling down the sides of the cliff.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Bemidji, Minnesota**

"Did you hear bells?" asked Maura Swenderson as her husband brought out a cup of cocoa to the porch.

"Bells?" Hank scoffed, "All I'm hearing is two kids clashin' hockey sticks. Can barely hear anything above this din."

"John's gonna be in the Winter Olympic trials, you'll see," insisted Maura, watching with pride as John and Alex, their two adopted sons, clashed on their icy front lawn, "Just like me. Except he'll actually get in."

John grinned and followed the game. He wasn't a hockey fanatic like his wife.

"There!" shouted Maura suddenly, turning to the side and pointing, "Horns!"

"Mrs. Gundvar doesn't have a whole darn orchestra in her living room," Hank reached for her shoulder, "Maura..."

"I'm hearing things, I tell you. Last night I hear somethin' in the distance, like a dragon breathin' fire maybe."

"Please. I'll start prayin' for a dragon to melt us off at least once, global warmin' or not." Hank muttered disconsolately. He hated winter.

"You know those dreams I've been having?" Maura turned to him, "They're becoming longer, and more real."

"It's your overactive imagination, and I think you might need help if you're hearin' and dreamin' strange things," Hank sulked in disapproval.

"The trip to New Zealand's going to be just wonderful. A nice relaxing holiday without the boys," Maura perked up, "Maybe we'll see some real dragons."

"In your dreams..." Hank rolled his eyes.

* * *

**(Previously) Wellington, New Zealand**

"Daniel found himself blacking out as they rolled down the side of the hill. He panicked thinking that this was yet another bad dream, when he found himself landing smack in a mound of snow

"Get up!" John sprung up from the snow enthusiastically, "Daniel, look around!"

Daniel stumbled to his feet, feeling the sudden cold. There was no more wind, a deathly calm lay over the snowy plateau.

"He said he'll meet us here," John ran all the way to the side where there was a cliff.

"Careful," Daniel called after him.

Daniel half stood up to chase John, then he slipped and fell face forward in the show.

"Git'up Daniel," came a warm, cheerful and familiar voice.

"Pete?" Daniel turned about, falling back into the snow, "Sir? Why is it snowing?"

"I asked you to Joe to send you along, to get some shots," Pete waved a small viewfinding lens, "I needed it to have a level of accuracy."

"Where are we?" Daniel coughed, sputtering in disbelief, "I thought you said no location shots for the Ravenhill sequence."

"This is Ravenhill," Pete waved his hand at the tall stone carvings along the walls, "There aren't any shots in New Zealand. Under ordinary circumstances, I would have been fine, except the critics, well..."

"Nice joke, Pete," Daniel scoffed, "But we're wasting time."

"No, seriously, this _is _Ravenhill," John chimed in, walking up to them, "Hey, Pete. I spot to watch the eagles when they come in."

"This doesn't make any sense," Daniel protested.

"Fine," Pete sighed, "This is a set. A secret location. Let's do some scouting and I'll take you back."

"I thought we could trust him," John muttered with disappointment, after Daniel went to examine the ice caps.

"He's been with us a long time. He'll come around," Pete nodded.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I've always wondered if I should put the "I don't own any of this stuff etc." disclaimer. Well I'm doing it today, though (in my mind) it's fairly obvious that whoever's writing on this site doesn't own the canon characters/settings they're describing :)Anyway, fics on the "Hobbit" page have been slowing for about a year now, so I thought about going back to this fic to boost the community a bit, despite my "writing skills" being as they are.

Chapter 6

"Do you think we should tell him?" John grinned.

"Nah, " Pete chuckled, "I'll just snap a photo. This is the first time I'm seeing this, but it's so true, just like you said."

John and Pete stared over at Daniel, who had gradually changed over the last ten minutes.

"I wonder what Joe'll be if we bring him," Pete smirked,

"A goblin..." John chuckled, "I based some of my designs on him."

"You're kidding!"

"Actually no. I always thought he and Alan would make good Ents though."

"You might be right about that," Pete agreed.

John fingered the ring on his left hand.

"I think we should be leaving soon, just in case."

"Whatever you say, you're the one who knows this world," Pete agreed, "But next time, cut down on the rolling down a sharp cliff and the rest of the dramatics, can't you?"

"I can't help it," John mused, "Ever since I was a child, I love rolling and sliding."

"I don't," Pete groaned.

* * *

Daniel turned over from where he stood. He knew something was not quite right, because nowhere in Wellington were such vistas possible. Everyone about this world seemed so real, yet it just didn't add up. Why would there be snow when summer was near, for one thing?

And, for another thing, he gradually felt lighter and lighter. Turning around, Daniel noticed that he wasn't leaving footprints in the snow. He waved at Pete and John in the distance and continued clambering nearer the edge.

"Daniel!" John called, "It's time we head back.""

Daniel licked his lips and tasted coffee.

"Just a second," Daniel said, "I have coffee on my teeth, I think. I've got to get a stain off, my dental appointment's at three 'o' clock."

"Here," John ran up to him, "Use my kleenex."

"It's clean? Umm... thanks." Daniel accepted the Kleenex, then fished around for his portable mirror.

John and Pete exchanged wary glances as Daniel flipped open the mirror he used often as an animation aid.

Daniel caught his reflection in the mirror and took a step back,

"Wah..."

Pete moved to Daniel quickly,

"Give me the mirror, Daniel, quick!"

Daniel held on to the mirror, but Pete's grasp was too strong for him, especially since John was moving to push him off the edge of the cliff.

"Guys! What are you doing?" Daniel shouted in panic, but suddenly, the world around him faded into a blur.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**New York City, New York  
**

"For the thousandth time, no," Vanessa groaned.

"You need a holiday. It'll be perfect."

"The only reason you want to bring me is because you broke up with Jim and want to rub it into his face that he can't go."

"Yes. I do want to rub it into his idiotic smirking face that I'm going without him, but I do think it's the best for you too. You work too hard."

"And you, Stacey, don't work at all."

"That's not fair," Stacey threw a pillow at her childishly, upsetting the piles of paper on Vanessa's desk.

"Please, Stacey," begged Vanessa, "I need to get these reports finished. You know I can't take off work to philander with more geeks around Australia."

Stacey rolled her eyes,

"New Zealand."

"Whatever."

"I'm going with my pals to Starbucks..." Stacey got up suddenly.

"It's not like you can afford it..." snapped Van.

"Well, I'm wealthier in some ways," spat Stacey, "I have _friends, _and you only have me. Maybe you should start doing an _inventory_."

The door slammed.

* * *

**Two hours later...**

Van's smartphone pinged, but she barely heard it. The office whatsapp group was calling for her attention like the relentless, depressing fall rain, but Van was sick, with flu. Having dosed herself with a cocktail of drowsiness-inducing pills, she was now fast asleep.

Stacey was the clutter-bug to Vanessa's freakish neatness. The coffee table was covered with straps of resin and bits of faux fur after Stacey's failed attempts at cosplay. There were coffee cups lying around from the Friday-night movie marathon gathering of Stacey and her likeminded fellowship. They watched fantasy movies together, play D&amp;D, and in Van's mind, got up to all manner of witchcraft. She didn't understand it, and she didn't want to try.

Honestly, Van just wanted to move out and get a place of her own, but she couldn't afford to in this big city. Furthermore, she was friendless and eager to get over yet another failed long-term relationship. Stacey was weird, geeky, and quirky, but she was a good friend. Besides, the limited-edition genuine Elven sword Stacey kept in the umbrella-stand felt like a security blanket against the crazy dangers of the dingy apartment building in this low-end part of town and the suspicious people who lurked on the streets at all hours of the day.

Van jerked out of her sleep - she was groggy and immediately assaulted by a barrage of sneezes. It was night, she decided. Stacey had probably came back after work and left for dinner with her pals. The lights were dim. Van felt nauseous, certain that a headache would come on.

"Come on", she shook herself, "Turn on the lights. Grab the tuna sandwich, take the pills, shower, and then you can go back to sleep."

Her logical sequence of activities was forgotten the second she heard a roar come from Stacey's bathroom. It was like a shout, or a scream, of a man.

Her first instinct was to reach for the sword- it was nearby, just a couple of feet away. Perhaps Stacey had not left, perhaps she had a guest? Was she being assaulted?

With a tissue in one hand and the sword in the other, Van stumbled over to Stacey's bedroom and knocked on the door.

"Where am I?" she heard a shout in a somewhat familiar voice.

Van trembled with fear, but she burst through the door and came upon the scene.

Stacey's bedroom... a whirlwind... while it was usually dirty, it was absolutely disgusting now. Her many belongings - pencils, crafting paper, DVDs, clothes - were strewn everywhere.

A robber?

But strangely, there wasn't a single soul in the room. Van checked behind the door. She threw open the cupboard. She moved a pile of stuff and checked under the bed.

Nothing.

Who had shouted, who had spoken?

It was chilling. Van looked around her, and froze.

There was a man in the corridor. How the blazes did he get past her?

Worse than that, it was one of Stacey's cosplayers. A good one, no doubt, but absolutely terrifying nonetheless with a bow and arrow set strapped to his back that looked far to real for comfort. .

That sword in his hands also looked real. In fact, identical to hers.

Her life flashed before her eyes and she pictured herself being stabbed to death by an insane blonde man in a costume.

As terrifying as the thought was, the worst part was that Vanessa froze, Elven sword in hand, and backed out quickly. She would grab her coat and go next door to Mrs. Martinis. Mrs. Martini and her creepy perv of a nephew were a much more welcoming sight than this stranger dressed in green leaves.

"Wait!" the man spoke.

"No!" Van aimed the sword right at him as she backed away. She didn't even know fencing, but she did have some judo that could come in useful.

"Vanessa?"

She froze.

"How do you know my name? Have I met you before?"

"Nay. I have seen you."

The man was dazed, and when he spoke, his eyes pierced her, alight with recognition.

"Seldom do I see the future, but you have I seen."

"Hi, I'm Van," Van waved her hand uneasily, still backing further away. She was nearly out of the room and ready to run for her life.

"Return at once!" he ordered, suddenly snapping back to the present. Vanessa heard him draw his sword and move towards her rapidly. She found herself being backed against the wall, cowering, but as he swung his sword back, it caught on the strap of her best handbag sitting on the bookshelf where Stacey had moved it, tearing some of the black leather.

"My GUCCI!" Van shrieked in horror, and threw the steel sword, aiming at his head as he tried to free his sword.

She fled the corner, moving towards the living room and picking up object after object to hurl at him in a frenzy of grief and fear.

It was her Gucci. She had worked to the death, saved for months to buy it. She wanted to kill him.

In fact, she would.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

**Wellington, New Zealand**

"Wake up, Daniel!"

Daniel awoke with a start, and found John bent over him in concern.

"Wha-?" he started, then remembered. John had brought him to the set, and pushed him off the cliff!

"You got hit in the head, Daniel. There was a freak thunderstorm," John explained calmly.

"But we were there!" Daniel got up on his feet, "There were snow, and I had these long elf ears... I saw them!"

Daniel reached up felt his ears, but they were normal.

"I think you were dreaming, Daniel. Got a bit of a concussion." John helped him up,

"Pete was there..." Daniel protested. It had been too real to be a dream.

"Of course not," John scoffed, "Come, let's walk to the clinic, it's just down at the end of this hill. Do you think you could manage that?"

"Yes," Daniel agreed.

But he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that what he had experienced was far more than a dream. He just needed a way to prove it.

* * *

**New York City, New York**

The front door has open and shut without

"What's going on here? Are you drunk again, Van?" Stacey's voice wandered down the hallway.

Van backed against the wall, mute and unsure of how to proceed.

"Legolas!" shrieked Stacey.

"It is I," Legolas bowed. Van backed out of the way,

"You know this guy?" she growled, still clutching the remains of her Gucci, "You'd better make him pay."

"At your service," bobbed Stacey, practically frantic with excitement, "I've been dreaming about you."

"So have I," Legolas mused, furrowing his brows, thinking of the unsettling visions of the future that had led him to the portal to this world.

"Not in the way I've been dreaming you, I'm certain," Stacey winked a little too suggestively.

Legolas coughed, a little hot under the collar. Elf or not, he had a faint guess exactly what was the unspoken nature of Stacey's nighttime revelries. At least he hoped it was not so.

"Are you going to make him pay for my Gucci or not?" Van interrupted, "Just _look _at what he did!"

"This is your companion." Legolas's eyes darted at Van.

"Yes, her name is Van. Sorry about any hostility on her part. Entirely unintentional I assure you," Stacey tilted her head, obviously oogling at the elf's impressive, lean, physique.

"Well, if I have wronged you, I must repay," Legolas turned to Van and reached out his hand, suddenly a little genial, "I will have my leatherworkers initiate repairs at once. The finest crafters of the elves, indeed they are."

"I don't think so," Van stepped back bitterly, "I'll arrange for the repairs myself."

"Nay," Legolas felt his hidden drawstring pouch, "Let me go further. This is a coin of pure gold and I think it should more than sufficiently repay you for any damages. I must leave now, my father has need of me."

Van accepted the coin, suspicious that she was being ripped off by some RenFaire smoothtalker.

"Hey," Stacey protested, "You can't leave."

"I have to. But I have the strangest inkling that we shall soon reunite," Legolas bowed, "Until then..."

"Bye," Stacey faltered, "I'll get the door."

But Legolas was making his way in the opposite direction. As suddenly as he came, he stepped into the kitchen and disappeared.


End file.
